The Badge
by Jael K
Summary: Sara Lance "lifted" a badge off a nameless Time Agent. But...what if it was more than that? Pure CaptainCanary wish fulfillment; you have been warned. Spoilers for episode 301: Aruba-con.


**Author's** **note** : After the third season premiere of Legends (and the throwaway line about the nameless Time Agent), I just had to write this. Dedicated to the CC fandom; you're awesome, and I love you guys.

* * *

 _"He may have left his badge at my place. … All right. Maybe I lifted it off him in the morning."_

* * *

The closing shift sucks.

And retail sucks, Sara Lance thinks wearily as she walks up the steps to her apartment at 10:19 on a Friday night after a long, long shift of housewares no one needs, annoying customers and clueless coworkers. And this night sucks, and life sucks, and...

And someone's in her apartment.

Sara frowns at the door, where the thread she'd left draped this morning is now missing, trying not to think too much about the rush of pleasure she gets at the notion of a little action of _any_ sort, even if it's just kicking the crap out of an intruder

"OK, asshole," she mutters under her breath, easing open the door and moving warily inside. "You're now a stress-relief toy. You picked the wrong former assassin to mess with today."

She quietly lowers her bag to the floor, then moves across the tiny kitchen, pausing just outside the living room, listening.

She can hear someone breathing. Even, calm breaths, unstressed. Tall, probably a man, just inside and to the left, by the bookcase.

OK, either a true nonprofessional who's unreasonably confident, or someone who wants her to know they're there. For a moment, she wonders about the latter…but anyone she can think of would know better than to not identify themselves. And if they don't, well…she's in a bad mood. They have it coming.

And with that thought, she springs through the doorway.

In seconds, Sara has the intruder on the floor, her knee in the center of his chest, a knife at his throat and it's... it's...

It's Leonard-goddamn-Snart.

Sara backpedals so fast she's across the room before she knows it, her back against the wall, knife still in her hand, staring, speechless and stunned, at the intruder.

Snart cranes his head to look at her from where he's still prone on the carpet.

"Hello, Sara," the dead man says.

"Wha..." She shakes her head, tightening her hand around the knife, feeling it press into her palm. "I'm dreaming."

That actually gets her a faint huff of amusement.

"No. You know, I'm not supposed to be here," he tells her conversationally, rolling smoothly onto his side and propping his head on his arm, still sprawled on her living room floor and looking too damned sexy doing so. "But when have I ever listened to Rip?"

"Rip knows?" She's going to kill him. "Wait a minute. Back up. You're… _you_."

"He's the one who pulled me out of the timestream." Leonard, eyeing her cautiously, finally sits up in one of those altogether too-smooth motions that are just so… _him_. "Who else would I be?"

"I…" Sara sits down, hard, on the floor just across from him. "Timestream? The Vanishing Point blew up. You _died_." She decides, for the moment, to leave the Legion out of it.

"Except I didn't." He gives her a look from beneath those damned eyelashes. "Apparently I was stuck in the timestream. I don't remember anything, though, until Hunter pulled me out when he was setting up his new little playground's system."

She wants to believe. "Prove it."

The smirk says he's unsurprised. He props an elbow on his knee and rest his chin on a fist, regarding her. "Gin," he says after a moment. "Russia. Alexa." A pause. "Hell of a thief."

A sigh escapes her, almost involuntarily. It's him. It's him, and he's back, and …

Rip knew.

"That rat _bastard_ ," she says numbly, staring at him. "He didn't tell us."

Snart shrugs, keeping his eyes on hers. "In his defense—and you know Hunter and I don't usually get along—apparently there's something to do with the timeline at play," he drawls. "Said I couldn't go back to Central City or the Waverider. Not _yet_. Of course, maybe he just wanted me to work for him."

Sara laughs—then realizes he's looking semi-serious.

"You're working for him?" she says incredulously, scooting forward. "At the Time Bureau? You're kidding me." She gives him a once-over. Same all-black outfit, right down to the leather jacket, although…yes, that's a Time Bureau badge hanging from his belt. "You don't match the dress code."

"I was bored." A tiny smile hovers around his mouth. "And I'd say it's more 'working with.' I don't work _for_ anyone but myself."

"Oh, I bet _that's_ going well." How quickly they fall back into the banter…

He shrugs. "It's amusing. They go by the rules there, but I will say ol' Rip, he does appreciate results. So he's willing to let me plan things if I stay out of sight and don't mess up whatever he thinks I'm going to mess up." Another smirk. "The agents, though, they don't like me."

She can't help but smile at the idea of it, but the memory of derision wipes the smile away. "They don't like us either."

There's bitterness in her tone. She knows it; can't help it.

Leonard tilts his head, and she knows he's heard it.

"Yeah, well, I just found out," he says quietly. "They keep me out of the way, and I've been all too busy engaging in … freelance projects…to fight that. Didn't even know they had the Waverider." He shrugs. "I don't think Hunter wanted me to know, probably because he knew I'd do…this."

He waves a hand, encompassing her and the apartment, and Sara finds herself smiling again, sitting there on the floor staring at an impossible crook, even though she's bored out of her mind and hates her job and…

"What," she says, trying for humor again, "visit me?"

Leonard gives her one of those _looks_ again. "Something like," he agrees in a low tone, and suddenly she's remembering all too clearly what'd happened the last time she'd seen _this_ Leonard, and the kiss and "me and you" and…

She could lean right over and kiss him again, she realizes suddenly. And she wants…

But what she wants isn't the only thing that matters.

"Mick needs to know," she says, climbing to her feet abruptly. "He took it hard. When you died…didn't die…you know what I mean. I can call…"

"Don't." Leonard rises to his feet in what she'd almost call a scramble, so much so that he nearly falls- although, catlike, he immediately pretends he'd meant to do that. He takes a step closer as Sara stares at him.

"I shouldn't even be here." He huffs out an impatient breath and glances away, then back. "Not yet. I don't know what I could mess up. But I heard what happened and that Hunter was his rat-bastard self to you and I wanted to...I wanted to..."

"To what?" Sara asks tentatively after he's silent a moment.

After another moment, he seems to make a decision, nodding to himself and then turning the full regard of those blue eyes on her again.

"To see," he says quietly, taking a step closer, "if you wanted to pick up where we left off."

He's close enough now that she can feel the warmth of him, always a surprise for one with such a chilly persona. But he'd abandoned that façade with her long ago, and she can see it now in his eyes, direct and questioning, almost uncertain. She remembers the Vanishing Point, the explosions around them, the adrenaline and the grief when she'd realized what he was doing, the taste of his lips, the tears on her cheeks...

But it's been more than a year. She's a different person. She's not sure how different he is, too.

"Cards and booze?" she asks lightly, turning toward the kitchen. "Bitching about Rip? I could do that. What do you want to drink?"

After a moment, she hears a chuckle behind her, then he follows. "Why not? Whadda you have?"

Not long after, they're sprawled in the living room, Leonard with scotch, Sara with a beer, cards arrayed between them. Sara can feel herself relaxing as they play, tension draining from her shoulders in a way she hasn't felt since she was last on the Waverider. Which is odd, she reflects, taking a sip, but, well, there it is.

"Tell me," she says, studying him. "Tell me about what happened. What you've been doing."

Leonard keeps his eyes on his cards another few moments, then shrugs, discarding one and looking back up at her. "Well. I remember..." His eyes drift to her lips, then away. "...I remember telling the Time Bastards off. Then...boom. Blue light." He shrugs again. "And nothing. Not until I found myself flat on the floor of Hunter's Office-Space-wannabe set up, with Hunter himself lecturing me about...something." He smirks. "I didn't really listen."

Sara snorts. "And when was that?" she asks, discarding a card.

" 'Bout a year ago, for me. I'm told it was more for him and less for you." He sets his cards down and holds up his hands in defense when she starts to retort. "I know. I don't get it either. This timey-wimey stuff gives me a headache."

"Hmmm. And you've actually been working for...with them?" She can't keep the skepticism off her face and he sees it, smirking at her again.

"Let's just say that ol' Rip has a practical side. And I have very useful talents."

"Ah. He wanted you to steal something for him."

Leonard points at her. "Bingo. All that tech, they didn't make it from scratch. It's from all over time and space." The man looks downright smug as Sara shakes her head. "He told me what to get; I made the plans and pulled off the heists. Along with a few other trinkets, of course."

"Of course." Sara stares at him another moment, then glances away.

"You know he was going to fire us?" she asks, looking at her cards. "Did he tell you his little project was going to replace us?"

Leonard's quiet and when she finally looks back up, he gives his head one vehement shake.

"No," he says, so forcefully she can't help but believe it. "I got back from National City in 2166 with a new gadget and found out not only that they'd seen you, but that...that happened." A very...Cold...expression crosses his face as she watches. "We had words."

It's wrong, Sara supposes, but the anger on his face warms her. It's always nice when someone stands up for you.

"Didya punch him for me?" she asks whimsically, taking a drink. "Tell me you did."

He blinks...and the shadow is gone, and the smirk is back. Leonard picks up a card and eyes her. "Nah," he drawls, leaning back against the wall. "But I did ignore him and come here, soon as I'd tracked you down. How'd you get the new identity, anyway?"

"Cisco Ramon." She smiles as he groans. "Come on, you know he does good work."

"I suppose." He lifts an eyebrow at her. "My gun still on the ship?"

The reminder sobers her, reminds her of standing in the cargo bay, staring at the gun in its case after...

"I don't know," she says finally, loathe to tell him what Ray had done. "Mick might have it. But we didn't get much time. It might still be on the ship."

"Hmm." He gives her a considering look. "Gonna take it back?"

"The _ship_?" Sara blinks at him. "How?"

"Come on." Leonard shakes his head at her mock-disapprovingly. "After everything I've heard about what you did after...after the Vanishing Point?" Another one of those looks through lowered lashes. "Heard you're captain now."

"I _was_." It's too much, all of a sudden, and Sara throws her cards down, climbing to her feet. "Why're you here, Snart? Really? To rub it in? Why don't you go find Mick and start messing with the Flash again, pick up where you left off?"

Leonard doesn't budge, but continues to watch her.

"Just saying," he says quietly, looking up at her, "the Sara I knew wouldn't have taken that quite so easily."

"Well, maybe I'm not the Sara you knew." Sara tries to stare him down, but finds she can't quite meet his eyes. Instead, she turns away, cursing the fact that her eyes are burning

Behind her, she hears him rise, taking a step or two toward her. Sara folds her arms and takes a deep breath, wanting to tell him to go. And also to tell him to stay. And...

"Sorry," he says after a moment. "Didn't mean to be a jerk again."

The words make her scoff. "Again? Don't you mean 'still?'"

"Still. Again." Another step and he's right behind her. She can feel the warmth again. "Bet you were a much better captain than Hunter."

Sara sighs. "Why're you here, Leonard?" she repeats quietly, turning to face him. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive. But..." She studies his face, the serious expression in those blue eyes, remembering so much about those first five months. "...I don't know if I'm what you're looking for. Not anymore."

The twist of his mouth speaks less of snark, for once, than self-deprecation. "I have a hard time believing would ever be the case," he informs her, then continues before she can respond. "Honestly...I thought maybe you could use...a hell of a thief."

Sara closes her eyes at the words, breathing in the feel of him standing right there, the warmth, the scent of leather and mint, and acknowledges desire.

"You gonna steal a kiss, Leonard?" she whispers, opening her eyes and looking into his.

His mouth twists again. "Actually, I was thinking about helping you steal the Waverider," he admits, but continues before she can draw back. "But..."

And then she's being pulled forward and quite thoroughly kissed by a hell of a thief, and she's kissing him back, and...

And maybe this night doesn't suck quite so much, after all.

* * *

In the morning, Sara rises only to cross over to where she'd left her phone and call into work. Her boss isn't amused, but she doesn't particularly care, returning to bed and the arms of a crook who's managed to steal all the covers. Again.

"So, why is it again that you can't let the others know?" she asks, pillowing her head on his outstretched arm and reaching up to trail her fingers down the line of stubble on his jaw. "Because they really should. Especially if we...do what you think we should do...I'd hate having to keep that secret."

Len regards her through his lashes again, a look that makes her want to roll over and kiss the small smirk off his face.

"Hunter seems to think it could jeopardize something in the future. He actually let it slip that I could probably clue _you_ in, just not the others, but seemed to think it was a bad idea." He lets his eyes drift slowly over her, then looks back to her face, smiling. "Maybe 'cause of this."

Sara snorts. "He thought you were gonna get lucky? Really? 'Cause I don't think _anyone_ could have predicted that."

Despite her words, though, she lets a hand drift down his chest, then slightly lower, and his smirk-smile falters, just a little. (Sara's, however, grows.)

"Still," she continues, "since you're here. You might as well…"

He moves quickly, pinning her to the bed as she laughs, and it's really a damned good thing she's called in.

Because she's going to appreciate this, and him, just as long as she can.

* * *

Later, late enough that it may or may not be called morning any more, Leonard's in the bathroom when Sara, retrieving her clothing from where it's strewn across the floor, finds his Time Bureau badge lying a few feet away from his jeans, discarded in the doorway to the bedroom.

She picks it up, staring at the logo and the black stripe where it's meant to be scanned, and wonders…

"Maybe you're a hell of a thief too."

Startled—something that doesn't happen very often—Sara drops the badge, glancing up to see Leonard, nothing but a towel around his hips, watching her from the bathroom door.

"Maybe you managed to lift my badge off me," he continues quietly, eyes holding hers. "Maybe I didn't notice until it was too late."

It's unmistakable, what he's suggesting, but…

"I don't know," she says, watching him in return. "Maybe it's best if I don't."

The noise Leonard makes shows just what he thinks of that idea. He crosses to her, stoops to pick up the badge, and holds it out to her again.

"Just in case," he says.

Sara studies him a moment longer…then takes it, their fingers brushing as she does.

"And you?" she asks. "Won't they know?"

That gets her a smirk. "Eh. I'll have an excuse. They don't much expect reliability from the crook." He hesitates just a second, then drops the towel and starts to dress, quickly and efficiently. Sara settles onto the bed to watch, appreciating the view, badge still folded in her fingers.

"How long?" she asks as he pulls his shirt on, and he doesn't pretend not to understand, pausing as he reaches for his jacket.

"Not sure," he says finally. "Hunter seems to think it's not that far away, but he could just be saying that to keep me from telling him to fuck off. Not that I haven't considered doing that anyway, but…" He gives her a small but unmistakable smile. "Let's just say that I'd rather see this future he tells me I'd be jeopardizing."

Sara resists the temptation to ask. Instead, she rises and pads over to him, stopping very near and going up on her toes to kiss him again. Leonard lifts his hands and settles them at her waist, and for a moment, they just stand there, two thieves stealing just a little more time before their paths separate once more.

"But come back one of these days and get me, OK?" he says into her hair, tone at odds with the seriousness of the moment. "I don't know how much longer I can take it."

Sara doesn't bother to argue with his expectation that she'll be leaving. They both know it's true.

"I promise," she says instead, "…crook."

"Thank you…captain."


End file.
